Time Loop

The Shadows of power

The sun had barely risen on a cold, misty morning as Sirken trudged his way to school. His breath came out in small puffs of steam, and he clutched his bag tightly to his chest, bracing for the inevitable torment that awaited him. Being the youngest in a family of powerful siblings, Sirken had grown accustomed to feeling like an outsider. But it wasn't just his lack of visible power that made him different; it was the way his siblings used their abilities against him, turning every day into a new trial of endurance.

Rylan, the eldest, had always been the golden child. With his ability to control lightning, he was seen as the family’s pride and joy. Tall and athletic, Rylan exuded confidence wherever he went. At school, he was the captain of the sports team, the student council president, and the one everyone admired. But underneath his charming exterior was a cruel streak that Rylan reserved especially for Sirken.

In the classroom, Rylan would find subtle ways to disrupt Sirken’s focus. A sudden jolt of electricity would course through Sirken’s desk, sending a shockwave up his arms, causing him to drop his pen or scribble across his paper. The teacher would look up, confused by Sirken’s startled yelp, while Rylan smirked from across the room. No one ever noticed the tiny sparks flickering from Rylan’s fingertips.

During lunch, Rylan’s tricks became more public. He’d send small bolts through Sirken’s chair, making him leap up in surprise, spilling his food all over himself. The cafeteria would erupt in laughter, with Rylan leading the chorus. At home, the torment continued. Rylan would shoot sudden bolts at Sirken's belongings, scorching the edges of his books or frying the circuits of his gadgets. Sirken’s favorite video game console, his laptop—anything that could be damaged by electricity—became a target. Rylan would laugh it off as a joke, but Sirken knew better. Each destroyed item felt like another piece of his identity being stripped away.

Eira, the second-born, was no less merciful. With the power to control fire, Eira was both feared and admired by everyone around her. Her fiery red hair matched the intensity of her temper, and her passion for destruction seemed almost limitless. She would often set fire to Sirken’s possessions, watching with cold, calculating eyes as they turned to ash. A favorite shirt, a cherished photograph—nothing was safe from her flames.

One particularly harsh winter, Sirken had saved up all his allowance to buy a new coat, one that would finally keep him warm during the long walks to school. The day he brought it home, Eira was waiting for him in the living room, her eyes glinting with mischief. As Sirken tried it on, Eira’s hands began to glow with a fierce orange light. Before Sirken could react, flames leapt from her palms and engulfed his new coat. Sirken frantically tried to pat out the fire, but it was too late. The coat was reduced to a smoldering heap on the floor.

“What’s the matter, Sirken?” Eira taunted, her voice dripping with mock concern. “Can’t handle a little heat?”

At school, Eira's bullying was more subtle but equally cruel. In the schoolyard, she would create small rings of fire around Sirken, trapping him in place until the teachers arrived. To the untrained eye, it looked like a simple prank—a wayward spark, perhaps—but Sirken knew better. He could feel the heat l*****g at his shoes, the flames a mere inch away from setting him ablaze. When the teachers questioned her, Eira would play innocent, her wide eyes and sweet smile betraying no hint of malice.

The worst, however, came from Liora, the third sibling. Liora was the quietest of the three, but what she lacked in noise, she made up for in sheer psychological cruelty. With her ability to move objects with her mind, Liora’s power was almost invisible, yet its effects were devastating. She didn’t need to set things on fire or shock Sirken with electricity. Instead, she used her power to make Sirken feel like he was losing his mind.

At home, Liora would move Sirken’s belongings just out of reach. His keys would mysteriously vanish from their usual spot, only to reappear days later in the most unlikely places—inside the fridge, under his bed, or even hanging from the ceiling. His schoolbooks would fly off the shelves the moment he reached for them, scattering their pages across the room. Liora would watch from a distance, a small smile playing on her lips, as Sirken desperately tried to regain control over his life.

In the classroom, Liora’s torment was even more insidious. She would wait until Sirken was in the middle of a presentation, then slowly tilt the chalkboard just enough to make it look like Sirken had done it. The teacher would scold him for being careless, while Liora remained silent, her power undetectable to anyone but Sirken. During exams, she would nudge his pencil off the desk, making it roll just out of reach, or she’d shift his papers around, causing him to lose his place and panic as precious minutes ticked away.

The culmination of Liora’s cruelty came during a science fair. Sirken had worked tirelessly on his project, a model volcano that was supposed to erupt on cue. But just as he was about to demonstrate it in front of the judges, Liora subtly used her power to twist the inner mechanisms. Instead of a controlled eruption, the volcano exploded in a mess of baking soda and vinegar, spraying the judges with foam and causing a scene. Sirken’s face burned with humiliation as Liora stood nearby, her expression unreadable, but the satisfaction in her eyes was unmistakable.

At home, the siblings’ powers combined into a relentless wave of torment. Rylan would zap the lights, Eira would raise the temperature until Sirken could barely breathe, and Liora would send objects flying through the air, all while Sirken tried to retreat to the safety of his room. But even there, he found no peace. The siblings would pound on his door, their laughter echoing through the halls, making it impossible for Sirken to escape their influence.

Despite their constant bullying, Sirken never retaliated. He didn’t dare. His siblings were too powerful, too confident in their abilities. But deep down, a quiet anger began to grow within him. His time-manipulating power was still new, still unpredictable, but Sirken knew it held the potential to change everything. While his siblings reveled in their abilities, certain of their superiority, Sirken started to see his power as something more—something that could level the playing field.

He began to practice in secret, rewinding small moments, pausing time to observe his siblings without them knowing. He studied them, learning their weaknesses, and with each small success, his confidence grew. Sirken didn’t want revenge—he wanted to prove that he was not the weakling they believed him to be.

But for now, he bided his time, enduring their bullying with a patience that only someone who could control time could possess. Because one day, Sirken knew, the tables would turn. And when that day came, his siblings would finally understand the true power he held.